


The Journey Itself Is Home

by WhiteRoseOfRivendell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Endgame, Fluff, Fun and Feels, Happy Ending, Kissing, M/M, Not a typical MCD, Pearly Gates, Set in Heaven, Snarky Dean, no violence, series end fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 10:04:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17363954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteRoseOfRivendell/pseuds/WhiteRoseOfRivendell
Summary: It’s all there, the white light, the bells, the pearly gates...and Dean Winchester. Wait...what? But it’s not his time! Or is it?This, my friends, is how it becomes canon.





	The Journey Itself Is Home

**Author's Note:**

> ***I feel compelled to put a note in here regarding the tags. Yes, this does deal with Dean’s death, but it was written more as an end to the series. We all know that Jensen has said that he feels that it would end with the brothers dying. However, I did not want to write a sad ending. I just don’t feel our boys deserve that. So this story begins as Dean is on his way to Heaven & the process he goes through. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> And, as always, comments and kudos are welcome.

  
  
  


The light was so damn bright it blinded him. Though he did have to admit, the stark contrast to the grey of the dirty floor where his body now lay lifeless was stunning. He looked back down at it all. It seemed cliché to be seeing himself from this vantage point. He quirked an eyebrow at the vacant green eyes that seemed to stare up at him, wondering where he was going, but not caring enough to ask. The hollowed out church grew dark around his corporeal form until he could barely see it. Soon, the light that had appeared so all encompassing before, swallowed up the darkness as well and forced him to turn his head back to where he was moving. Onward and upward. Dean would like to have said it was routine, however in this instance something was different. This was not like the other times he had died. It was so much more... well, just so much more. The pure white light, the slow ascendance from his earthly bonds, the faint echo of trumpets and angel wings in the obscured distance; he almost expected pearly gates to open up for him.

Yep. There they were.

Dean Winchester laughed and shook his head. A set of glowing gates that had no business being there loomed ahead amongst a sea of flawless clouds. As he neared, he looked up at them. They had to be fifty feet tall and made of no metal he had ever seen before. In fact, he was not sure that it was metal. The spiraled bars were golden, yet shone with the luster of an Akoya pearl. They were there, yet did not seem to actually exist in the same space that he did. He examined them for a short period of time before glancing up to find a means of opening them. The gates had not opened on their own, which was perplexing. At any rate, he needed to get in to speak to whomever was in charge at this point, get his death rectified, and get back down to Sam, Cas, and Jack. 

There did not appear to be any handles nor locks, not even so much as a fancy doorknob. So he reached out with his hands to grasp the bars. They disappeared as his fingers wafted through. A swirl of glitter reformed them after his hands had passed.

“Great,” he huffed, rolling his eyes.

Dean took a step back, then had a thought. He began to walk straight forward with a mind to walk through the gates, just has his hands had gone through them. Unfortunately for Dean, this plan proved to be folly. He realized this fact just as his face and chest made sharp contact with the now solid-as-iron bars. A loud ringing laughed at him as he reeled back, cursing and rubbing his forehead. He kicked the gates reflexively.

“Ok, ok, I get it,” he shouted into the nothing around him, “Can we just get this over with?”

As if in response, a figure appeared in the distance. Dean squinted, but could not make out who it was. He began to walk toward it. The figure appeared to not be far off, yet only an outline was truly visible. Whoever it was, it appeared to be walking toward him as well.

“Hey! Listen, we all know how this works,” he called out as he continued to walk. The figure did not respond nor did it slow its gait. Dean’s resolve wavered and he paused. He really didn’t know what was going on and everything was so different. He began to feel unsettled, “Billie? Uhhh...Ch-Chuck?” He tilted his head to one side and tried to focus harder on the unknown being that was now only a few yards in front of him. 

Suddenly, the obscuring mist vanished and the being came into full view.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas?” Dean was caught off guard, “What the hell, man? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be downstairs with Sammy and Jack?”

There was a heavy pause. Castiel’s face was apologetic.

“No, Dean. Not this time,” was all he said.

“What? What do you mean not this time?”

“I...” Cas shifted a bit, “I am not going back...”

“The hell you’re not,” Dean interrupted, “Listen, I’m not sure what this whole stereotypical ‘Gates of Heaven’ thing is, but we’re going to get in there and get all patched up and resurrected. So let’s go.” 

Dean turned and walked back toward the pearly gates. However, his growing anxiety turned to utter confusion when Cas failed to follow him. Dean turned back around. The angel stood motionless in the white nothing. 

“Cas?” A half-annoyed, half-concerned cadence snuck into his tone.

Castiel then slowly walked up to him and did not cease his steps until they were all but nose to nose. Normally, Dean would have backed up and made a sarcastic comment about proximity, but now did not feel like the time. Cas was looking at him with piercing blue eyes that were filled with emotions rarely shown. The mood had changed so suddenly and with such a serious tenor that Dean felt compelled to remain and match the stare.

“Do you...” the angel began rather hesitantly, “Do you trust me?”

A silent confusion hung in the air. It was an absurd question. Though everything about this experience was absurd. But through the ridiculousness of it all, Castiel remained stoic. It’s not that his demeanor was so different; the angel was usually serious. It was more that he did not seem to be as disconcerted about the situation. If anything, he seemed to be more confident. There was a strange and, oddly enough, captivating energy about him. 

Dean found that his mouth had gone dry and his throat was no better, yet he managed to respond, “Yeah, uh...yeah, of course. Come on, you know I do.”

Cas raised his hand and softly touched the side of Dean’s face. The angel closed his eyes and his brow furrowed in concentration. Suddenly, Dean was outside and Cas was nowhere to be seen. He stood, his face blank, his eyes trying to focus on the scene around him. The white nothing was gone, replaced by a banner of trees and brush. Dean recognized it as the woods just behind the bunker. It was close to sunset and the sky was a myriad of colors. He looked around for some clue as to why Cas had zapped him here. His eyes came to rest on two figures a short distance away; two figures that he knew all too well, Sam and Jack. They were standing in front of a pair of graves that had been placed near the overlook of a small valley; a plot that made them look much less mournful than they should.

“Come on, Jack,” Dean could hear Sam say, “Let’s get back inside.”

Jack turned to Sam, a concern on his face that was much too mature for his age, “Do you think they are happy?”

Sam managed a smile, “I wouldn’t worry.” He put his arm around Jack’s shoulders.

“I miss them,” Jack replied.

Sam looked toward the sky out of reflex and sighed, “I do too.”

“But we’ll see them again,” Jack added with certainty, “When it’s time.”

Sam gave Jack a squeeze and looked down into his eyes as his smile returned, “Yeah, when it’s time.”

Dean watched as the two began to walk toward the back entrance of the bunker. The sky was darkening around them, yet the scene was strangely peaceful and settled. No tears had been shed, no melancholy speeches uttered. Even the birds continued to sing a sweet melody that fell down from the trees like a restful waterfall. 

As Sam and Jack disappeared out of view, Dean’s curiosity got the best of him and he headed toward the graves upon the hill. There were two wooden crosses standing side by side against a backdrop of the setting sun. As he got closer, more detail came into view. There were a couple of haphazard letters carved into the wood.

D.W.

C.W.

Dean’s eyes widened in surprise. He reached out to trace the letters. As calm as he was attempting to be, he could not stop his hand from shaking as it ran over the first set of letters, then the next.

“D.W. Dean Winchester,” he whispered to himself, “C.W...Castiel...Castiel Winchester.”

He looked back toward where Sam and Jack had disappeared into the trees.

“Sammy?” He looked once again to the graves. Disbelief set in. How could Sam bury him? Why wouldn’t he try to bring him back? And Jack? How could he accept all of this so easily? Jack was like a son to him. In fact, damnit Jack was his son. How could he be left like this? Left to just...die? And why was there a grave for Cas? Cas couldn’t be dead. He was in Heaven right now.

He was in Heaven, with Dean.

“What’s happening?” The disbelief was slowly turning to anger. It began to rise within him like the tide. Dean didn’t like being in the dark like this and he had had enough of his current playing-dead situation, “Cas!!” He yelled at the deepening twilight, “Cas, what’s going on?”

Suddenly, the trees were gone, the valley was gone, and all that remained were the outlines of the companioned crosses. Even those began to fade into whiteness as Dean realized that he was back at the Gates of Heaven. His mind was still spinning with vexation and discord. He whipped around searching desperately for answers. What met him was a familiar face and a friendly hand.

Castiel laid a tender touch to Dean’s shoulder, “It’s ok, Dean.”

He shrugged away, “It’s not ok, Cas. None of it is ok. How can you say that? How did they even bury me so quickly? I just died.”

“Time passes differently up here. You know that.”

“Yeah, but still,” he paced obstinately, “And what about you? Why were there two graves? You’re not dead or you wouldn’t be here.”

Cas licked his lips and looked at his feet. 

“Cas?” Dean asked impatiently.

“The grave was just a formality. Sam and Jack thought it was only right,” he explained softly. He lifted his gaze then, “I chose to come.”

“You chose to come? Why? Why would you do that? Why would you leave Sam and Jack? Why would you let them bury us? I don’t...” He trailed off. Running his hands through his hair, he backed off and measured out a few paces. This was all getting to be too much. So many aspects were completely out of focus. None of it should be happening. It was not the way things went down for the Winchesters.

“Sam and Jack will be fine,” Castiel replied soothingly, “Dean,” another pause, “It is your time.”

Dean stopped. Unexpected tears stung at the backs of his eyes at hearing those words and he swallowed hard. Attempting to hold together the pieces of his shattered disbelief, he looked at Cas a long time before responding, “What?” 

This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be the end. There had to be more.

“There is more,” Cas said plainly as if the thought had been said aloud. He stepped up to Dean now, once again invading his personal space, “Come with me.”

A long pause and a million thoughts followed.

Dean’s breath became shallow and he blinked his tears away, “You’re not a reaper,” he joked, but his body betrayed him and his chest hitched as the words were uttered. Then he shifted his gaze to the infinite beyond that played just over Castiel’s shoulder, “You know I... I thought Billie would be the one to do it,” he confessed.

“She was, but she sent me and... well actually, if I’m to be truthful, I requested to be the one to be here...with you.” 

Cas looked deep into Dean’s eyes. A realization came then, but believing it to be true proved to be much more difficult than Dean would have ever thought it to be. His next word came out floating on a whisper.

“Why?”

Castiel took another half step forward and once again brought his hand to Dean’s cheek. Dean flinched at first, but as Cas’ fingers grazed his face, he relaxed. He realized that Cas was not zapping him anywhere, he was only touching him as a comfort. It was unusual, but he allowed the touch nonetheless. He even leaned into it, surprised at how good it felt to have Cas touch him in such an affectionate way. It was rather calming, he had to admit. His eyes closed and his breathing slowed.

Cas’ caresses soon faded away. 

Dean’s eyes opened to see the angel’s baby blues still staring into him. But in this moment, they were troubled. A question hung there, one that the angel had not yet been able to bring himself to ask. Perhaps he felt that he did not deserve to. Though, perhaps the human was not the only one having trouble believing that it could be true. Nonetheless, there it stayed and Dean could not bear to see the pain that it caused him. He raised his own hand and mirrored Cas’ actions, caressing his cheek warmly. Dean ran his thumb over the perfectly smooth skin. It felt right. This felt right. On impulse, he allowed his fingers to trail down over Cas’ lips. They fell down to his neck and lingered. The gun-shy movements fell in between one breath and the next. Once decided, they moved with all grace and tenderness. Dean cupped the back of Cas’ head and ran his fingers through the fine hair at the base of his neck. 

Castiel’s eyes changed then. 

With but one intimate move, the question in them was answered.

“I love you, Dean.”

Dean’s face clouded over. The previously unshed tears would not be held back then. They began to fall freely from Dean’s eyes. He chuckled and shook his head, dizzy with waning incredulity.

“I know,” he smiled. 

The air between them cleared and suddenly the surrounding whiteness did not seem so vacant. It was now warm, inviting even. Dean did not know why such a confession would change what was, in essence, Heaven’s waiting room. He supposed now he had seen it all, and it was in that spirit that he leaned forward and placed a halting kiss upon the angel’s lips. In that moment, if it were possible, the nothing that had only just changed into something warmed even more. Dean felt comfortable for the first time in a long time. It was like finally being home. 

When he pulled back from the kiss and opened his eyes, a brilliant smile that could only come from Cas greeted him. He could not help but smile back, and he didn’t even kick himself for indulging in a chick-flick moment.

“One question though,” Dean finally spoke up through the divine haze that had formed in his mind, “Why all the pomp & circumstance? I mean, why not just take me in if it’s my time?”

“Apparently someone up here has a sense of humor,” Cas said with a half grin.

Dean returned the smile, then looked toward the pearly gates and sighed. It was not a mournful sigh, as he had once thought it might be when his time was up. Instead it was a sigh that came out willingly and rode the winds of acceptance. The journey would continue, but now wherever he went, it would be home.

“Ready?” Cas asked, his hand outstretched. 

Dean looked at him & then again to the glittering spirals that stood between now and forever, “Yeah, yeah I guess I am.”

The gates before them, so seemingly delicate and majestic, parted with a quiet flourish and allowed the pair to enter. Tinkling bells could be heard far off in the distance, though one could mistake them for giggling angels. Cas and Dean just rolled their eyes and exchanged a look. Then, shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand, they crossed into the light, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

 

**The End**

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****

 

**Author's Note:**

> And that is how it becomes canon.
> 
> That’s a wrap, ladies & gentlemen. <3


End file.
